Portret van Louise Demandre met haar kinderen Frédi en Joseph Anthony 1860

Curator: Let's consider this tender engraving from 1860, "Portret van Louise Demandre met haar kinderen Frédi en Joseph Anthony," created by Achille Louis Joseph Sirouy. Editor: It's haunting, isn't it? Something about the greyscale and the way the light falls makes it feel both intimate and a little sad. Like a memory fading at the edges. Curator: Absolutely. The process of engraving itself is key here. Think about the labour involved in creating this image, the marks made by hand into the metal plate. The technology behind reproduction impacts the social availability of imagery, in a big shift to who gets seen and how. Editor: Yes, it gives the scene a sense of reverence and distance that you would not find in modern imagery. This kind of attention to detail makes me think of time passing slowly. There’s such an unspoken connection captured here – look at how carefully Louise is holding her younger child and the sweet little glance the older child is throwing their way. Curator: The materials used were relatively cheap and replicable but they had powerful reach in memorialising those considered ‘middle class’. Note how dress codes, headpieces and the small stand symbolise status. Also of interest to our team, how frequently and widely was it consumed? What were its different print forms? Editor: Mmh, yes. She has a knowing, weary gaze; beautiful, even in its quiet desperation. It reminds me of when my mother said she couldn't get anything done before I was 7 because the kids all needed looking after...that sentiment seems reflected here. I wonder what stories lay behind this single moment in the family's story? Curator: This type of genre portrait can highlight social expectations of women and their domestic roles in the 19th century, as domesticity was more commonly documented across industrialised nations. I always try and imagine all the human stories this piece may have reflected in circulation. Editor: And the engraving allows us to access it centuries later. A frozen breath from the past, still resonating. Art... it's the most bizarre alchemy of the concrete and ethereal, isn't it?